Mass Effect: Intervention
by Senormumbles
Summary: A revision of the ending for Mass Effect 3, including the aftermath of The Battle For Earth.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning of The End

**Author's Notes: **Hello there, dear reader! Recently, I replayed the Mass Effect trilogy, only to be once again let down by the ending. After a good rant, I decided to attempt to rewrite the ending into something that made more sense, while fleshing out what happened to the other people that participated in The Battle For Earth. This is based on my Male Shepard, who was a Paragon Soldier with the Colonist and War Hero background. Hopefully, you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. (A line separating the text means a change of perspective to another character, just to clear things up!)

* * *

Garrus Vakarian had grown used to impossible odds. Being Shepard's best friend had the side effect of thrusting him into extreme peril on a regular basis. It seemed to the turian that the galaxy itself had decided to make both their lives _interesting_, and Garrus had quickly decided the galaxy had a very twisted idea about what that word entailed. Not that living on the edge was all that unpleasant to him, of course. Certainly beat his old job at C-Sec, and being simultaneously adored and dreaded across the galaxy as 'Archangel' definitely had its perks. Not to mention the stories he would be able to tell his own family. He could see himself regaling his relatives, and perhaps children, with the tales. _Well, which one do you want to hear? How Shepard and I took down Saren? Or how about that time we blew up a giant Collector ship? Maybe how I single-handedly took on the three largest mercenary outfits in the Terminus Systems? _Thinking through his history with Shepard now, he had decided that facing the impossible had become something of a natural habit between the two of them.

Of course, charging head-on into the firing beams of a Reaper was a bit different. Sprinting behind Shepard, ducking and dodging to avoid the bombardments flying at them from the Reaper ground forces was proving itself to be a very, very difficult problem. The task seemed simple when they were briefed upon it, but somehow reality had that funny way of making everything so much harder than it sounded. Garrus could hear the robotic shrieks of dying marauders, intermixed with the hoarse, final cries of dead soldiers. Bolts of plasma and streams of lasers careened across the open landscape, as Harbinger fired streaks of fiery red death from above. It was all Vakarian could do to keep his attention to simply avoiding enemy fire, forgoing any attempt at return fire in favor of making sure his closest comrades, Shepard and Tali, were still moving. One scorching beam of destruction, courtesy of that goddamn Reaper, narrowly missed hitting his squad leader, as Shepard was only saved by his unnaturally fast reflexes. The laser continued past the three combatants, hitting one of the Mako units on their right side. The large vehicle was immediately ablaze, as the large fuel tank on the underside of the tank was seared through, sending it barrelling through the air.

"Get down!" he screamed over the radio, barely having time to duck before the flaming mass of metal came crashing down on top of them. The responses and cries of his teammates were swallowed by the sounds of wrenching, burning metal meeting the ground. Garrus was thrown back by the impact, crashing into a piece of rubble, and felt ribs breaking underneath his armor. Ears ringing, he spat the building pool of blood out of his mouth, the blue liquid slowly beginning to drip out of a crack through his breastplate. Garrus quickly scanned the area, looking for any sign of his two friends. The first he saw was Tali. The quarian was lying on her back, and Garrus could see her arms pushing against the ground, struggling to get up. Her movements were lacking energy and strength. Garrus pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the spasms of pain in his chest, and made his way over to his friend. The turian moved an arm underneath her back as she quickly moved an arm around his neck to support herself. As she slowly got to her feet, they saw Shepard sprinting around the wreckage. Garrus could see the fear clear on his friends face in the fires light, shooting a quick, relieved look at Vakarian before focusing on Tali. Shepard moved to place an arm around Tali, quickly taking her weight off his beleaguered friend, much to the quiet relief of Garrus.

"Normandy, need an emergency evac, Garrus and Tali are badly wounded." Shepard quickly called over his headset, before scanning frantically over his injured lover. Within a minute, Garrus could see the Normandy pulling up alongside the three soldiers, quickly lowering its bay doors. A few human marines stepped out to provide covering fire. Tali clung to Shepard's side, not wanting to let go, even as he gently pushed her towards Garrus. The turian took hold of her, and did his best to stop her from running back to Shepard. As they exchanged a few, quiet words, he took the time to examine her wounds.

To say Tali wasn't in good shape was an understatement. The quarian had a large piece of metal lodged in her mid-section, maybe a foot showing on the outside, and was bleeding steadily. While he knew his ribs could be fixed quickly with medi-gel, the quarian would require much more care than that. Not to mention the consequences of the puncture in her suit. This was only going to get worse the longer it was left unattended, and while Garrus grimly knew that this could be the last conversation Tali and Shepard may have, he quietly wished they would hurry up so he could get her inside to Dr. Chakwas. Just a few moments later, Shepard had backed down off the loading ramp, and with a quick salute to Garrus, had started sprinting back towards the beam. As the bay doors closed, Tali's grip on his armor tightened, and he could feel his friend shaking.

"He'll be fine, Tali. Shepard's a tough son of a bitch; it'll take more than the end of the galaxy to kill him." Garrus reassured, trying to alleviate the absolute feeling of dread in his own gut as well as assuage the quarian, knowing that if he was scared for Shepard that she was probably going through much worse. He felt her grip relax slightly, which he hoped meant that he was doing a passable job of comfort, that notion disappearing altogether when her legs buckled. Vakarian did his best to catch her, his chest searing in pain as he picked the quarian up, carrying her in his arms as gently as he could while he ran for the elevator. A nearby marine had accompanied them, hammering the console to get them to the crew deck. The dim light of Tali's eyes beneath her helmet was flickering, her breathing was becoming shallow. Garrus desperately wished the elevator would go faster.

"Stay strong, Tali'zorah," he gently whispered, "You aren't allowed to die on my watch, Shepard would have a breakdown. And I don't want to lose another friend in this war. That's an order."

"Level Three: Crew Deck." The robotic, calm, pre-recorded message was the most welcome sound Garrus had heard all day. Sprinting into the med-bay, he noted that Chakwas had already prepared the nearest medical table, with surgical tools, dispensers, and diagrams already set in place.  
"Vakarian, get her onto the table, quickly! She's gone too long without attention already!" Chakwas commanded, her usual motherly tones replaced with the calm, crisp voice of a trained professional. The turian didn't need to be told twice, placing Tali's body down upon the slab, relief slowly working its way through his mind. That relief was slowly replaced by pain, as his stubborn body finally realized that it was in bad shape.

"The medi-gel dispenser is in the corner, Garrus. Go ahead and patch yourself up," the good doctor said, having already noted the turian's stoic distress, "I will need to focus on Tali, and by now I'd hope you've learned how to use the damn gel. God knows how many times you've needed it." Garrus simply nodded, before moving to take a seat beside the station. Retrieving an injector from the station, he pressed the small needle into his chest through the crack in his armor, before sitting back to heal. He held back his urge to talk, as the cold, quite frankly uncomfortable gel did its work. Garrus could feel the gel moving through his body, and the feeling of his bones knitting back together at an unnaturally fast rate wasn't at all a pleasant experience. In an effort to focus on more important matters than his own situation, he quickly tuned the radio in his omni-tool into the distant radio chatter, attempting to determine the state of the battle, while quietly wishing for news about his friends.

* * *

John Shepard was alive. He knew this because every part of his body felt like it was on fire. His vision was blurry, and his limbs felt numb. Shepard felt the scorched, warm ground pressing against his head, and the heavy sense of his armor against him. The distance, murmuring hum of radio chatter was dimly sensed, but was made unintelligible by the harsh, loud ringing in his ears. He barely felt the ground shake as Harbinger took off from the battle, back into the night sky. Slowly, his vision refocused, still shaky from the blast, and immediately saw the burns running along his body. Shepard's N7 armor was charred beyond recognition, the heated metal seemed to cling to the skin, and his clouded mind casually noted that it might be burnt into his body. This inspection brought with it a whole new world of pain, as his neck muscles burned in protest. John's vision clouded once more his eye His urge to scream was cut short by seared vocal chords, letting out little more than a gasp.

Shepard had died before, and dying had hurt less than this.

Every single one of his instincts was screaming for relief. _Stay down, you've done enough. It's over, just stay down. The pain will go away. Don't move. Don't be a hero. _His mind, still clouded by pain, confusion, and adrenaline, was becoming a battlefield all of its own. Shepard struggled to regain composure, and the slightest control over his mind. Through the chaotic storm of fear, anger, and suffering, he heard one firm, cold voice, his own voice, urging him on, echoing inside his skull. _Get up, you jackass, get moving. The Reapers will kill everyone if you don't move. People are counting on you to FINISH THIS. Don't stop now; you're too close to die now. Move, you coward. They need you. Don't let them down._

_ She needs you. Don't let her down._

With that thought, the raging storm of sound became quiet, a single thought pushing its way to the front of his mind: _End this, for everyone, for Tali. _Shepard, sat up, and began slowly pushing himself to his feet, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. He noticed now the blood running down his arms, mixed with the mud caked along his limbs. Holding his hands up for inspection, a dim red glow from his face illuminated them. His foggy mind realized his old scars had opened up again. To his left, he spotted a pistol, clutched in the smoldering hands of a scorched turian corpse. Stiffly picking up the weapon, he quickly checked to make sure the gun was loaded, before beginning his slow, agonizing march towards the beam.

As he sluggishly made his way down the hill, the centre of his vision became focused, still leaving his peripherals cloudy and disorienting. Two husks emerged from behind a charred piece of wreckage, screaming their robotic growls. "Nice of them to run in straight lines, makes this just a bit easier," his distant mind commented. Raising the small hand cannon, he fired five shots into the two abominations, wincing every time the recoil impacted against his arm. _Keep going_, that firm voice urged, _you're almost there, just a little further_. Within five steps of the platform, a marauder stood up from behind sheet of metal, pointing its plasma rifle directly at the approaching human. John let loose with six shots, most bouncing off the shield of the wretched thing, the last two finding a home inside the chest of the cyborg.

With nothing left in his way, Shepard stepped onto the platform, and into the beam.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I have much more written, and will be releasing the rest of the story over the next few days. Feedback of all sorts is welcome!


	2. Chapter 2: Relentless Struggle

"Holy shit. He made it."

Garrus snapped to attention, noting not only the break from normal Alliance chatter, but the sheer surprise in Admiral Hackett's voice. "Shepard made it," the gravelly voiced admiral announced, seemingly for his own confidence more than anything else. The turian's eyes widened at the news, before attempting to find any working video feed from the area near the teleporter. Catching a lucky break, Garrus was able to use one of the few remaining satellites orbiting near that location to find a weak, but still present signal. Bringing up a small monitor on his omni-tool, Vakarian watched the static-filled, lagging footage from what he assumed was a helmet-mounted camera. He was barely able to glimpse a lone figure stumbling onto the platform, before marching into the beam.

"He's in, Doc. The commander made it to the Citadel," he informed. The doctor gave him a brief look of relief, before resuming her delicate work. Tali stirred on the operating table, her head lifting just slightly before falling back down. Noting that the pain in his mid-section had been reduced to a slight discomfort, Garrus unplugged himself from the medi-gel station before standing up. Walking over to the table, he took Tali's hand in his own, gave it a small squeeze, feeling a small sense of relief as the gesture was returned with the barest of movements. Nodding at Chakwas, the turian set out for the elevator. Taking it to the second floor, still much too slowly for the situation, he marched around the galaxy map, heading for the cockpit.

Through the front window of the Normandy, the battle above the Earth raged on. Garrus saw lasers and missiles flying in every direction, as the Normandy weaved its way through the fire of both sides. He could see the Crucible in the distance, being escorted by a truly massive amount of ships, ranging from human to geth. Joker's arms were a blur, hammering away at the controls in front of him as he maneuvered tightly through the ongoing chaos, barking rapid orders to the other crewmembers. EDI sat in the co-pilots seat, not physically interacting with any controls, but it wasn't hard to guess that she had her share of problems to deal with. The frame that she channelled commands through was a useful tool, but interfacing directly with the Normandy's systems proved to be much faster than physical control.

"Shepard made it to the beam, any status updates?" he inquired, determined to believe his friend was safe, despite the astronomical odds looming in the back of his mind. Joker didn't respond, as he was far too busy attempting not to crash into the hundreds of objects currently occupying the space around them. EDI was the one to acknowledge Vakarian instead.

"No signal from Commander Shepard has been received," the slightest edge of worry was heard in the AI's words, "My attempts to reach him have proven futile. It is likely that either Shepard's omni-tool may have been damaged, or communication is unavailable in the Citadel." Garrus quickly accepted the small attempt at optimism shown by EDI, as believing that the radio had been damaged was much preferable to…other possible outcomes.

EDI gave Garrus what he believed to be a nervous glance, before turning back to face the controls. Shortly after, a communications terminal on the right side of the cockpit lit up green, indicating an incoming signal. The turian quickly moved to the panel, opening the line for two-way communication. Over the system, he could hear distant sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screaming coming from the other end. Most importantly, the strained, desperate voice of Steve Cortez came through.  
"Normandy! Do you read me? I've repaired the shuttle, and Reaper forces are swarming the area," the rising panic in the pilot's voice was all too clear. "Kaiden and his squad are trying to keep them at bay, but we won't last long down here! Requesting an emergency evac! I repeat, requesting an emergency evac!"

Garrus quickly responded. "This is Garrus, Steve, we read you. Joker, you hear all that?" Turning to look at Joker, the man gave a frantic, quick nod, before going right back to his rapid steering. "Transmit your coordinates. Tell the men to hold out just a little while longer, we will be there as fast as we can."  
The sounds of typing could be heard, before the terminal sounded a small beep. From the way the ship was moving, Garrus assumed EDI had already uploaded the coordinates to Joker. "We are on our way, Cortez. Stay in cover, try to stay alive." Cursing himself slightly under his breath, noting that was probably not what the pilot needed to hear.  
"We're trying to! Just hurry, goddamn it! Our guys are getting shredded out here!" And with that, Steve's voice stopped flowing through the terminal, leaving only the sounds of warfare drifting through the line. Garrus quickly set about buckling himself into the chair near the terminal, really wishing that he could do more for his allies on the ground, silently berating himself for leaving them behind. He knew fully well he needed to, but that certainly didn't help matters.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the shockwave of a nearby Alliance vessel exploding, as a Reaper laser cut clean through it. Joker steered the Normandy away from the debris that was quickly spreading their way, before righting the ship onto its trajectory to rescue their comrades.

* * *

He limped through the dark, eerie tunnels. Bodies, spread out everywhere. _Stay focused, keep moving. _Closing his eyes, trying to shut out the horror around him, Shepard moved forward. The familiar, pained voice of Anderson coming through his omni-tool, was guiding him through the nightmarish terrain. John could see lights up ahead. Fresh blood travelling down his arms, he slowly marched towards what he hoped was the end.

* * *

Cortez was normally very smooth with his landings in the Normandy's bay. Apparently, being under fire from dozens of different armaments, while trying to enter an incredibly fast target made things considerably more difficult. Garrus watched the shuttle hurtle past the loading doors before hammering door closing mechanism button. The small craft skittered into the inside of the bay, slid across the floor, and slammed into the rear wall of the bay. After waiting a few seconds to make sure the bay doors were fully closed (getting forcibly thrown out the back of the Normandy was not something Vakarian was interested in doing), he sprinted down to the shuttle, running to open the doors of the shuttle. After practically ripping the door open, Garrus was able to see the passengers within.

Kaiden was buckled into a seat across from the door, beside a badly wounded human soldier. Liara was sitting on the opposite side of Kaiden, rubbing the side of her head and nursing a nosebleed. Cortez was still manning the controls, the panicked look in his eyes turning to one of barely concealed relief that they had made it out alive. Kaiden looked much less relieved, as he checked pressed two of his fingers to the neck of the soldier next to him. When the turian gave him a questioning glance, the bitter, mournful stare that was returned was all the answer needed.

"A straggler we rescued," Kaiden explained, "Rest of his squad had been killed before my team ended up rescuing him. Eight of us total…" the sentinel quietly trailed off, before continuing again, regret clear in his voice, "I guess it's just us now."  
Liara gently put a hand on his shoulder. Garrus moved to give his friend a hand up. The glint of understanding was all too clear in the turian's eyes. Kaiden didn't miss the meaning behind the gesture, and accepted the hand up with a nod.

Liara turned to Garrus, voice slightly nasally due to the bleeding. "Good to see you intact, Garrus, not an unpleasant surprise seeing you here." Garrus gave her a quick smile, but not before raising a questioning eyebrow.  
The asari frowned just slightly, her voice taking on a much darker edge, "A run-in with a Brute. It punched me straight through a nearby wall. Fortunately, my barrier held."  
"I'd suggest heading to the med-bay, you three. Chakwas is taking care of Tali, right now, but you look like you could use some medi-gel." Garrus stated, rather matter-of-factually. Kaiden looked about to disagree, but the burns on his shoulder and side might have changed his mind. The constant bleeding combined with the awkward angle Liara's nose, not to mention the dark bruises on her neck meant trouble for her, and the way Cortez's hands were shaking, Garrus just figured having other people around would be good for him. Giving the pilot a comforting pat on the back, the turian lead the way back to the med-labs.

* * *

The Illusive Man was dead. Anderson was dead. Why Shepard was still alive he had no idea. A red haze washed over his vision, as he felt a new wave of blood start to flow from underneath the metal husk of his chest plate. Seeing nothing but red, he crawled his way towards the control panel. Looking at the different buttons, Shepard realized he had no idea what to do. Not for the first time, he felt completely helpless, slamming his fist into the panel in anger. Slowly, he slumped against the panel, darkness draining his awareness, smothering everything in black. As he lost consciousness, he barely felt the slightest sensation of upward movement.

* * *

The chatter coming from the connected radios of the Alliance wasn't good. Admiral Hackett's voice overpowered the rising panic, shouting out orders in his steely, gruff voice. "Hold the line; keep the pressure off the Crucible! Give Shepard more time, damn it!"

As the admiral's voice continued to shout, Garrus became more concerned by the second. _Come on, Shepard, get the damn thing running! What the hell is going on in there?_ Questions blared in the back of his mind, slowly giving way to a plan of attack. Standing up from his chair in the middle of the crew deck, he marched towards the elevator for what seemed like the hundredth time today. Stepping in, he punched in the floor for the loading bay. Impatiently, he pressed the button over and over, making a mental note to 'accidentally' fry the circuits of this stupid elevator later. Doors opening, he made his way over to the shuttle, opened the doors, and entered the pilot's seat.  
As he powered up the shuttle, he heard the one thing he hoped he wouldn't hear today. Vakarian heard the admiral's voice, sounding much more stressed than his usual commanding tones. "Get the Normandy to safety; get to the rendezvous point, Joker. That's an order. Get through the relay, now!"

What Garrus hadn't expected to hear was Joker's reply. Only a formal "Yes sir" was said, but the tone said that he definitely didn't want to follow that order. At this point, he realized it was now or never, and opened up the shuttle's communications link.  
"Joker, open the loading doors. I'm going after Shepard." Garrus ordered, already starting the engines of the shuttle.

"You're what? The admiral just ordered the retreat, are you deaf? I'm already heading for the relay."  
"I don't give a damn where we are going, I'm not abandoning Shepard!" he barked, "How many goddamn times has he pulled our asses out of the fire? I'm not leaving the man behind to die, to hell with the orders!"

The conflict in Joker's voice was all too clear. "You think I want to leave the commander behind? I-"  
Garrus cut him off before he could continue. "No, you don't. None of us do, which is why I'm going, to make sure he makes it out alive. It's what he would do. The least we can do is send me!"  
There was silence from comm. After five heart-pounding seconds, a calm voice broke the tension.

"Opening loading doors," EDI said, as the sounds of locks disengaging rang out in front of the shuttle.  
"We're counting on you, Scars," Joker's voice rang out, "Bring the commander back in one piece, alright?"  
"Will do, Joker, just get to the rendezvous point intact," Garrus responded, undisguised relief flooding his voice.

And with that, the bay doors opened into the chaotic abyss in front of him. Raising the shuttle only slightly, Garrus was quickly outside the Normandy, as the ship made a bee-line for the relay. Turning the shuttle towards the Citadel, Garrus took off, shooting through the blaze of incoming fire as fast as he could push the small craft. _Hold on, Shepard_, he thought, _I'm coming.  
No one gets left behind._


	3. Chapter 3: Objective Complete

Through blurry vision, and a hazy mind, Shepard had listened to this….thing. An AI, which looked too much like the child he had seen at the beginning of the war. Three options, it had said. It was his choice. Memories flashed through his head, catapulting one after another through disoriented head. Visions of destruction, death and despair were thrust to the forefront, as he imagined his friends getting killed, one by one by the Reapers.  
_No.  
_Still grasping the pistol, he counted four shots left. The small child looked at him, expectantly.  
"You must make a choice," it said.  
John didn't trust this…child wasn't the right word, he knew_. _This thing had said itself that it was the Reaper network manifest. A representative of everything he had fought against. _The enemy. _It looked inside his mind, and manifested as a sympathetic image. Anger bubbled through him at the thought, giving him focus.

The Illusive Man couldn't control the Reapers. It wasn't possible. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and Shepard knew firsthand how deceiving the Reapers could be. Saren had wanted to synthesize with them, organics mixed with synthetics, in hopes of sparing himself a worse fate. _Well, look how that turned out, same as the Illusive Man. _Not to mention how stupid it sounded. _Jump into the dangerous, deadly beam, and create magical peace throughout the cosmos._

_No. _These abominations had caused too much pain, created too much horror, all because of this damn 'cycle'.  
_No._ This was the Reaper's last, vain, barely disguised attempt to stay alive. So that they could continue to destroy everything John knew and loved.  
"No," he whispered, glaring at the AI, "This ends now."

He thought he saw the slightest trace of fear in the face of the 'child', before it disappeared. "You would end the cycle, plunging the galaxy into destruction! You have no idea what you are doing, human!" The echoing voice of the child slowly distorted, until the booming, familiar voice of Harbinger filled the room.  
"**YOU DOOM THE GALAXY WITH YOUR ACTIONS. YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF YOUR DECISION. DESTROY US, AND YOU WILL REGRET IT. THE CYCLE MUST CONTINUE.**"

Shepard started walking towards the core that would begin the destruct sequence. Listening to the colossal machine threaten and preach, a chuckle escaped his blood-caked lips.  
"You know what?" he said firmly, confidence clear in his voice, "You Reapers are more like organics than you thought."  
"**WE ARE NOTHING LIKE YOUR KIND. YOU CANNOT BEGIN TO IMAGINE OUR-**"  
"Here you are, facing death in the face, so what do you do?" cutting off the Reaper, Shepard continued, still advancing towards the power core, "You fear death, so you beg for mercy. Mercy that organics were never shown. That ends today. You failed to control me, and now you'll get what you deserve."

The Reaper was silent. Shepard was almost at the terminal. Raising his pistol, he fired once, and then twice. The protective glass that encapsulated the switch was blown open, allowing Shepard to see what lay inside. A control panel, much like many others around the Citadel, lay exposed to him. Only one command lay present on the small video screen: _Initiate Crucible? Y/N. _Shepard moved to the installation, putting his gun into the burnt holster on his left leg. With one quick motion, he started the weapon.

All around him, noise echoed. Machinery grinding, power cores warming up, and through the large window panes he saw the Citadel arms opening. In the back of his mind, he casually noted that he was near the base of the Citadel, as they opened away from his position. _Would explain why I've never seen this part of the place_, he thought, _I must be in some hidden area of the Citadel. _Realizing now that his legs were barely keeping him upright, he moved to sit against the console. Looking around at the room, he heard the sounds of the weapon priming echo against the metallic, rounded dome of the place. With a loud, electronic crash, the pillar of energy to his right that the AI had deemed 'synthesis' became red, and through the glass Shepard watched the beam travel out the middle of the Crucible and into the space ahead. John saw it head straight for the mass relay, as the Reapers around it became still, crackling with electricity.

John Shepard leaned his head against the console. _We did it_, he cheered silently, _and we won. _In his quiet congratulations, the pain throughout his damaged body finally broke through his concentration. He had forgotten the wounds he had collected before this whole 'save the galaxy' moment grabbed his attention. He noticed his head was feeling much foggier than before, noting the new levels of blood loss he was currently experiencing. Feeling himself nodding off again, he let himself relax against the floor. _If I'm dying, I guess this isn't the most uncomfortable way to go_, he thought dryly, _after all this, I could use some sleep. Before that, though… _On that thought, Shepard quickly switched his omni-tool to emit an emergency transmission, a small, simple frequency just in the local area, before relaxing once more.

Any thoughts of rest vanished from his mind, as the nearby reactor started shooting arcing beams of energy throughout the complex. Shepard tried to get up, maybe get somewhere safer than a metal room full of electricity, but couldn't find the strength to push himself to his feet. From his position, he saw the other control panel on the opposite side of the room explode into a ball of flame. Electric wires dangled from the broken space, and Shepard felt the room start to shift. He watched through the windows the arms of the citadel broke from their base, and began drifting out towards the ship-filled skies. He felt rumbling through the floors, and knew that the room was tilting to the left. As he started to slide, Shepard was captured in an explosion behind him, and everything went black.

* * *

Entering the mass relay, Joker pounded away at the controls, forgoing any sort of elegant maneuvering for pure power and speed. Rerouting all forms of shields and weaponry, he forced the Normandy to reach speeds it had never before been through, putting strain on even its considerable engine.

"Come on, baby, don't let me down now," he pleaded, desperately hoping to outrun whatever energy signal was approaching them. As the relay launched them into light speed, his beloved EDI's body started to shudder.  
EDI spoke, voice warbling and crackling from interference. "Jeff…Something is wrong….SomEthiNg is WrOnG….JeFF, I lov-"  
"EDI? What is it, what's going on? What's happening to you? EDI? EDI!" Joker shouted, all thoughts of piloting giving way to the crisis in front of him. EDI's body was shaking, loud crackles coming from inside the frame. Sparks erupted from her eyes, smoke rising from the body, as the frame ceased its movements, sitting rigidly in its seat. Before his eyes, Joker watched the controls in front of him disappear, as the cockpit went completely dark. Outside, he could see the usual blue fields indicative of FTL speeds ceased to exist, as the Normandy began drifting. Jeff could feel the movement of the ship, watching in horror as the vessel drifted dangerously close to a nearby planet, steadily getting pulled into the atmosphere.  
"Emergency landing, we're going down! Prepare for impact!" Securing himself even tighter in his seat, he prepared for the worst as he watched the surface get closer.

* * *

Garrus was nearly to the Citadel when the Crucible fired. Watching the red stream across the sky, his first instinct was to move away, and move away fast. Swerving past a geth squadron, the shuttle weaved its way out of the incoming energy. The shuttle's scanners were reading immense amounts of energy, and quite a bit of radiation. Watching through the vid screen, Vakarian saw the Reapers, bringers of destruction, become still, electricity coursing over their metal exteriors, before becoming still.

"He did it! The bastard made it! First round is on me, you magnificent son-of-a-bitch!" he hollered, "Just hold on a while longer, I'm coming Shepard!"  
His revelry was cut short, as he watched with rising horror the Citadel break apart, arms flying in all directions. The Crucible snapped free of its supports, sailing slowly into a nearby arm. The small lights appearing in the distance didn't bode well for the safety of the station. Apparently, it wasn't designed to hold onto that much energy, and judging from the site before him, the turian wasn't sure the engineers knew what would happen either. Realizing he was wasting time, Garrus hit the thrusters, setting off for the Citadel. _Where the hell could he be?_ He wondered, knowing that Shepard wouldn't last long if the life supports were taken down in that blast. Years of C-Sec work had helped his intuition, however, and right now he put them to use. _Now, if I were controls to an ancient super-weapon, where would I be? I'm guessing near the Crucible. Can't imagine it being anywhere else, some idiot would have blown us all up by now. _Knowing that he may be betting Shepard's life on a hunch, Garrus wasted no time making a bee-line for the Crucible.

As he reached within boarding distance of the large, unstable weapon, Garrus did a quick scan of the now detached metal deathtrap, looking for an entrance. Scans revealed an opening on the side of the construct, apparently where it had been previously attached to the Citadel. Slowly, he steered the shuttle into the opening, revealing a larger interior than he imagined. Quickly dropping the shuttle inside the Crucible, landing inside on what looked like a large sewer system. Noting the apparent lack of gravity in the open space, Garrus activated the small magnetic plates on the bottom of the shuttle, which would hopefully keep it in place. Standing up from the cockpit, Garrus equipped his helmet while grabbing a nearby air supply, guessing that Shepard might want to stay breathing on the way back to the shuttle. _If he was still breathing,_ the turian thought grimly, before pushing that thought aside. _No, Shepard is alive. He's been through worse. Hell, he's already died once. At this point, I doubt Death even wants him around.  
_With that thought, Garrus stepped out of the shuttle, activating his mag-boots, and immediately wished he wasn't going into the tunnel. He could see bodies, mutilated and torn, floating about inside the tunnel. He would have to push through clouds of corpses to get through, a thought he truly didn't relish. The turian had seen absolute horrors, stuff a lesser man would have been broken by, but the lifeless parodies that literally hung before him were hard to stomach. Steeling himself, he began marching down the hallway, elbowing his way through the floating dead. _They aren't living; you've seen the dead before. Don't think about it, just don't think about it. _  
After clamoring through the corpses of every race for what seemed like an eternity, Garrus emerged through the wretched tunnel, which he had decided definitely wasn't a sewer. Approaching what appeared to be a security door, he quickly bypassed the locking mechanism, stepping in quickly to avoid losing too much oxygen from within, more so for Shepard's sake than his own. His suit notified him that the gravity generators were functional, which he was glad for. Disabling his mag-boots, he picked up his pace, running along the small walkway to the flickering lights ahead. According to his scans, life support systems were miraculously functional, but damaged badly. Garrus didn't know how long they would last, and started to run faster.

The lights ahead were growing dim, and he could see a damaged control panel amongst what looked to be a disaster area. Pieces of metal and glass had fallen scattered across the floor, and what looked like a circular lift had crashed into the metal ground, having split in half on impact. Charred rubble lay strewn about, and judging by the mess, Garrus assumed explosions had taken place, having seen the effects more times than he'd have liked. Scanning around, he saw the crumpled form of the Illusive Man, lying sprawled on the ground. No life sign was picked up, and Garrus truly couldn't care less. Pulling out his pistol, he quickly put a shot through the skull of his maligned enemy. Keeping his pistol drawn, he advanced further around the area. He spotted the blood-soaked body of Anderson, body sitting against a small ledge, staring lifelessly out through the glass walls into space. Once again, no signs of vitals were detected. A small salute was offered by the turian soldier, before moving on.

Past the two bodies, he saw a large pile of metal had collapsed through the roof of this area, large cables hanging down through a hole in the ceiling. Garrus guessed that meant that the upper level had been the source of the destruction, judging by how the debris had fallen. This room looked mostly undamaged, for the most part, just covered with ruins.

Advancing towards the mound of misplaced metal at the far back of the room, he noticed his omni-tool emitting a low, monotonous frequency. Trying to clear up the connection, he fiddled with the receiver on his device, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. As the frequency was processed, his HUD pinpointed the location of the signal: Underneath the fallen pieces from the upper level. Moving quickly, he tried to look for any loose pieces, hoping to find a way through to the underside without shifting the entire pillar. Finding what appeared to be a movable scrap, he pulled it away from the stack, getting a better signal from the frequency. Taking this as a sign of good news, the turian moved quickly to open up the tight space. He nearly risked the whole thing coming down around him when his omni-tool picked up the one thing he'd been looking for: A weak vitals signature was picked up underneath the pile. Desperately, he clawed at the wreckage, ripping pieces away with reckless abandon, until he saw what he'd been wishing to see. The body of Shepard lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by shards of wreckage.  
The turian wasted no time trying to help the commander. He crouched under the still standing metal, pulling his friend out into the dim light for him to inspect. What he saw was not even close to what he expected.

He had seen his commander take ammunition of every kind. Rockets, bullets, lasers, flames, and more had tried to put Shepard in the ground. Every time, Shepard would get up, no matter how much damage he had taken, as the cybernetic and genetic engineering built into his system kept him alive, regeneration matched only by the vorcha. He shrugged off hits that would kill an ordinary man, going toe-to-toe with krogan, geth, and even Reaper brutes, and walked away with barely a scratch.

Seeing the burnt, bloody, scarred form of John now, he wasn't sure his implants were going to keep him alive. Horrific burns ran along his limbs, black scars lining his arms, legs, and neck. His face was covered in blood, cuts and scars having reopened along his cheeks and forehead. Shepard's legs were bent at an angle Garrus knew wasn't physically possible. The heavy armor that had kept him alive for so long was as charred as everything else, some parts physically cooked onto his friend's chest. The right side of the chest piece that had been emblazoned with the N7 symbol was no longer there. In its place was an N7 emblem burned into the skin, the armor having left a scorched, involuntary tattoo of the rank. Only the shallow, painful-sounding gasps and the slight rise of Shepard's chest told Garrus he was alive. And that was good enough for him.  
Gingerly, Garrus picked up his fallen comrade, carrying him in his arms out in front of him, John hanging limply in his arms; head leaned back at an awkward, uncomfortable-looking angle, eyelids open just barely.

"Stay with me, Shepard. It isn't fair to come this far and die on me now," Garrus quietly pleaded, keeping a sharp focus on the vitals of his best friend. The unsteady rise and fall of the commander's chest was reassuring at least, making the turian all the more determined to get them off this wreck. Marching back the way he came, he gently placed Shepard on the floor before the security door, placing the emergency mask he had taken from the shuttle over the face of his friend. Opening the door, he slowly backed his way down the tunnel of corpses, trying to keep Shepard away from the dangling bodies to avoid infection, or worse. Hearing the shallow breathing of John, the vital signs indicated his breathing becoming steadier, albeit at an incredibly slow rate. _Tough bastard_, he remarked_, what does it take to keep you down?_ _Not that I'm complaining, though. I've lost enough friends already.  
_"Stay alive, Shepard. We're almost out of here."


	4. Chapter 4: Working The Worries Away

All things considered, the Normandy had taken part in better landings. Crashing into the lush, green landscape below, it skidded to a halt on a rocky outcropping near a waterfall. The dense canopy of trees had helped to slow the incoming ship, while emergency mass effect field had been deployed, proceeding to keep the ship mostly intact. Opening his eyes, Jeff noticed that the emergency power had come on, as terminals displayed such interesting diagrams in front of him. For starters, if this diagram to his left was correct, the Normandy's main engine wasn't running. The shields, unpowered due to earlier power redirection, were still inactive. _Christ,_ the bitter pilot thought, _those really, really could have come in handy. Whose idea was it to redirect to thrusters? Oh, yeah. Mine. Good call, dumbass. That really helped us with the whole 'protect the ship' thing._  
The small map on built into the front of the ship displayed a small amount of information regarding the now crashed ships location. Apparently, they had dropped out of FTL into the atmosphere of Terra Nova, in the Exodus System. Turning around, squinting through the dim red emergency lights, Joker looked at his fellow crew members. Most of them had remained in their seats, some looking conscious, while others dangled in their seats limply. One unfortunate man had been thrown against the opposite wall, and didn't appear to be moving.

"EDI, can you run a scan of the systems, make sure…" he trailed off, remembering the unmoving body beside him. Staring at the still frame, smoke still drifting out of the joints, fear began to crawl through his body. The smell of burnt circuits and melted wires polluted the air, and Jeff was filled with panic at the thought of losing his partner. Scrambling to his feet, Joker limped down the main walkway, past the galaxy map and into the elevator. Slamming his fist into the console, the slow metal contraption moved to the crew deck, at a much slower pace than he would've liked. Emerging through the doors, he heard other crew members calling out, some crawling out of the pods near the main battery, while others were laying on the crew deck floor. Jogging to the med-bay, he saw the forms of Kaiden, Liara and Chakwas moving about through the windows looking into the labs. Opening the door, he spotted Cortez sitting on a bed, bandaging up his head. The others looked relatively safe, besides a few scrapes. Upon hearing the doors open, Kaiden turned to look at the now distressed pilot.

"Joker, are you alright? The emergency power's on, what the hell happened?" the sentinel questioned, looking concerned.  
"The ship lost power when we went past the relay, I don't know why! I do know that EDI is offline, and her body fried beside me!" Jeff replied, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, somewhat unsuccessfully.  
Liara, hearing this, approached the AI core. Opening the doors revealed that the normally pristine room was a mess. Large, black wires dangled from the ceiling. A server had toppled over, black pieces of its protective casing scattered throughout the room. Pushing his way into the room, Joker ran to the back, searching for the one thing he knew they couldn't replace: the AI's 'blue box'. The omni-tool uplink required to open the safe housing the device appeared to be functional, as Jeff opened his own and connected with the link. Recognizing an authorized user, the sounds of magnetic locks, followed by a single quiet beep signaled the safe had opened.  
Steeling himself, Joker prepared for the worst. What he found inside was not quite what he had imagined, but was not unpleasant. The knee-high box was smoking slightly, secured in its usual place at a slight angle, but seemed to be undamaged. Relief flowed through him, alleviating some of his concern.  
"Are you alright, Joker?" Liara asked, unsure as to what the pilot was feeling.

"I'm fine, right now. The box seems to be ok, but we won't know for sure until we get the engine running, emergency power won't be enough to support her." He stated, anxiety slowly leaving his voice. Jeff still felt uneasy, remembering the smoking, sparking form he had come to know and love, but knew he could focus on other tasks at this point without distraction.

"Do we have any idea what caused the power outage?" Cortez asked, sounding slightly out of it as he held his head in his hands. Judging from the ties and straps that were currently laying on the beds, Jeff assumed that the others had secured themselves to them. Everyone except for Steve, apparently.

"No idea. I'll go take a look down in engineering, see what Adams has to say about it." Joker replied.

"Good idea," Kaiden said, "Do we know which planet we landed on? Might help if we could move around outside if we need to patch up the ship."

"Yeah, being able to see what we're doing would help, huh?" Jeff said, sarcasm pervading every word, "The scanners say Terra Nova. Shouldn't need to seal your suits, the air here is supposed to be breathable. Last time I checked, humans had colonies on this rock."

"Good to know, I'll head topside to check out external damage. Liara, are you feeling up for a walk?"

"Certainly, Kaiden," the asari replied, looking just a bit worried, "the faster we repair the ship, the sooner we find out what's going on back on Earth."

Liara's words brought silence to the room. In the current situation, the thoughts of the battle had been temporarily forgotten. A blanket of concern, panic, and fear fell upon the friends gathered. Quietly, Kaiden stood up, and marched out of the med-bay with a sense of dire urgency. Liara followed suit, quickly running to catch up to the Alenko. Heading down to engineering, Joker exited with a silent nod to Dr. Chakwas.

After taking the excruciatingly long elevator trip to Engineering, the physical damage looked substantial. Pipes had ruptured along the walls, spewing streams of smoke into the open hallway. Joker could hear the voices of the two ex-Cerberus engineers bickering at each other, followed by the sound of a fire extinguisher. Entering the engine chamber, Jeff saw the large element-zero reactor quietly spinning, much slower than normal. A small fire had apparently sparked on a console, prompting Kenny to cover the entire terminal with foam.

"Kenneth, there's no need to use the whole damn extinguisher on a few sparks." Gabby lightly scolded, giving the snarky Scotsman a poke in the back.  
"Ah, you would say that! But if a fire started, you'd be all 'Oh, Kenneth, why didn't you use the whole can? Then we wouldn't be burning!' There's no pleasing you, woman!" he retorted, his indignation somewhat undermined by the grin on his face.

"Could you two _please _help me get this thing working again? Keeping the power running might actually benefit us, honest!" chief engineer Adams pleaded, letting out a sigh before returning to his own console.

"Hey, Adams, any idea what's wrong with the Normandy? Normally, dropping out of the sky is considered, you know, a problem." Joker inquired, hoping at least Adams would have some clue.  
"Well, Moreau, let's see," Adams began, a tinge of sarcasm to his voice, "the power has stopped functioning on the ship, mostly due to the Reaper tech Cerberus had implanted into the Normandy's power grid turning into useless scrap. That tells me that serious repairs are needed, and replacements have to be made. We might be here a while getting this patched up."

Joker had stopped listening around the 'Reaper tech stopped working' part. "Wait, the tech just stopped? Why?" Slowly, he was piecing the story together. "If the tech just stopped working…do you think he did it? Shepard, fired the Crucible?"

Adams's brow furrowed. "I don't know, maybe? I'm not sure, to be honest. No one knew what the Crucible would be capable of. It might have had this effect."  
Joker nodded excitedly. "No, that would make sense! If it fried Reaper tech, that would explain why EDI's body went nuts, that whole frame was made of the stuff! EDI made with human tech, though, right?" The pilot's mind was racing now, trying to figure out what it meant. _Had they won? Did Shepard make it?_ _Does that mean EDI is alright?  
_

The chief engineer's face looked hopeful, but pensive. "Maybe, but we won't know for sure until we get the repairs made. Is the fabricator still running? We might be able to crank out the parts from there, if we had the plans. God knows we have enough material to work with."

Having enough materials was the least of their concerns. Over the years, Shepard had been driven to find all sorts of mineral deposits, crashed probes, and military memorabilia. The holding bay of the Normandy was crammed with metals and ore of every kind. If he ever got around to selling the cargo, the Commander could be a very, very rich man. Right now, Adams doubted that Shepard would care for the missing materials if it could fix the ship. The important part would be using the fabricator. Shepard and his Cerberus 'friends' had used it in their fight against the Collectors to produce upgrades to their equipment, a Cerberus upgrade to normal, factory found models. The reason behind having so much of the damn ore in the ship was the paranoia that the crew had shared, believing that every tiny upgrade they came across was necessary to succeed. Apparently, their caution had paid off.  
Joker shook his head. "It's powered off, right now. We could try rerouting the power from the oxygen recyclers, since there's plenty of it in the air on the planet. Just, try to turn them on again _before_ we take off."

And with that, repairs on the beloved spacecraft were begun. Minor hull damage was reported by Kaiden, which was quickly patched up by the crew not focused on the power grid. The emergency power was taken care of by deploying a solar panel generator, creating enough to keep the systems vital to the repair process. The grid itself took roughly three weeks to rebuild and repair, leading those without the expertise to perform such replacements bored, nervous, and worried. The crew had taken to trying to get a communications uplink set up, with little success. The Reapers had systematically eliminated all comm-buoys, they discovered, in the nearby systems around the Local Cluster, cutting off outside communications from Earth. This brought with plenty of worry, concern, and fear when it came to thinking about the other side, past the relay, and the need to forget such worries. Quickly, the rest of the crew had set up a campground of sorts outside the ship, where they tried to relax. Concerns about Earth and its current state were mostly averted, due to not seeing any ships pass through the nearest relay, which lay visible in the far off space.

Kaiden, being a marine first and foremost, lacked the tech knowledge required to truly contribute to rebuilding a power grid from scratch. Instead, he was more than willing to spend his time running the fabricator for the technicians, able to keep the machine running through his own form of 'percussive maintenance'. The constant use of the machine sometimes jarred parts loose, or a schematic wasn't processed correctly. Instead of wasting time ripping open the guts of the machine, he (or Liara, if the migraines were particularly distracting) would dissolve the offending material with his biotics, or push the pieces back into place. Running the machine helped him keep himself from having a mental breakdown, for when he wasn't busy, he was thinking about Earth and the battle against the Reapers. Having not seen any incoming ships, he was overcome with concern for the galactic forces assembled. Focusing on getting the ship running was slowly keeping that fear at bay, and he personally was happy to have a distraction.

Liara, now having time that wasn't consumed by running a galactic information trade on top of the imminent extermination of all organic life, was indulging her own interests when not needed. The sheer amount of data that her informants, research, and Crucible data plans had revealed about the Prothean race was astounding. Sinking deep into her own notes and information, she spent any available time absorbing as much data as possible, running through her backlog of data in a matter of days, before she began compiling charts, diagrams, and presentations based on the collected info. Her own experiences with the last living Prothean, Javik, had been enlightening, before her grand illusion of a proud, great race was shattered by him being a huge jackass. Still, she found herself liking the often rude, pragmatic Prothean, even more so than her inner researcher, and began putting together more information about him than anything else.

A pleasant surprise came to visit the engineering crew about three days into their stay on Terra Nova, in the form of Tali'zorah's technical expertise. Chakwas had insisted that she let her body heal, for even medi-gel had its limitations. The shard of the Mako unit that had pierced her mid-section had been removed as soon as possible, with the expert care of Chakwas keeping the wound stitched up and healthy. The fever, coughing, and nausea that had followed were what had kept her from returning to duty, regardless of her steadfast belief that she was healthy.  
Tali was not happy to have stayed that long without something to keep herself busy. The time in the med-bay had been fraught with worry for Shepard and the quarian fleet. The radio silence hadn't helped matters, and she feared the worst. Kaiden and Liara had tried their best to entertain her, as well as assuage her worries, but she could tell they were just as worried as she was. The quarian was still grateful for their attempts, though. In the absence of company, she had been tinkering away with her own suit, making modifications as she saw fit. Not for any worthwhile purpose, but in her fevered state of mind, the thought of making an automated environmental suit had seemed like a good idea. Reading her messy, scattered, and volatile schematics later when her mind was much clearer, she wondered how much medication Chakwas had been giving her.

With the help of the tech specialist, the engineering eggheads made much better progress upon the systems. It came to a full standstill when the final part had been fabricated, an intricate circuit board of Element Zero, crafted to the highest performance standards possible by the tech crew, that spanned the radius of the Element Zero drive core. As it was placed in, the drive core started rotating to its regular speed, humming with concentrated energy. The cheers echoing throughout the ship were the happiest sounds many of the crew had heard in a long time.

Joker was more eager than anyone to see the Normandy back at full capacity. For him, it meant two things: 1) His beautiful ship was back in working order, and 2) his chance to see EDI again had come. Kaiden and Liara had decided it best that they move her overloaded body into the cargo bay, out of the sight of their friend, agreeing that it wouldn't be healthy for Jeff to constantly see it. Not being able to move around much, Joker had settled into their outdoor lounging area after trying to tidy up the AI core, seeing that the cockpit was…too quiet at the moment.

Upon hearing the news of a fully powered Normandy, Jeff dashed down to the crew deck, nearly breaking his right leg in the process. Stumbling into the med-bay, he walked straight through into the AI core, wires still dangling from the ceiling (interior appearance had been a low priority). Reaching the command console, Joker heard footsteps behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Tali, Kaiden, and Liara had taken positions, trying to seem as if they were casually coming to look. His paranoid side told him they were here to make sure he didn't shoot himself if something went wrong, but at this point he didn't care. Following the instructions that EDI had previously entrusted to him in case of such an emergency, he brought up a visual prompt to help him. Initiating the reboot sequence, Jeff stood back to watch, legs wobbling, and hands visibly shaking. Kaiden stepped up, placing a hand on the pilots shoulder, steadying his fellow crewmate. Staring straight ahead, Joker watched with bated breath, as the whirr of machinery, hum of fans, and beeping consoles sounded around him.

Lights flickered, and filled the room from the various servers. Quiet, low tones began to sound, their monotonous noise hurting to hear, while at the same time filling him with desperate, anxious hope. Electrical currents ran through the wires above the assembled crew, sharp crackles emitting, before changing to a simple, delicate hum. A sharp, fast pulse sounded, followed by a familiar voice filling the room.

"I Am tHe EnhanCEd deFenSe IntelliGENce, operating upon the Normandy SR-2." The calm, gentle tones filled the space, interrupted by small bursts of static before smoothing out. "Jeff Moreau, are you present?"

At the sound of his name, Joker's face lit up with joy. "EDI, I'm here, I'm right here! Are you alright? Are you…you?" The fear in his voice was undisguised. Nervously, he wrung his hands, hoping like hell that EDI, his EDI, was back.

"Jeff…I don't believe I can properly describe how good it is to hear your voice again," EDI softly stated. His friends smiled, watching as the beleaguered pilot straightened his back, eyes gleaming with absolute joy.

"I will require physical means to make my state known. Jeff…." The AI's voice trailed off, before coming back, ringing with confusion, "Where is my body, Jeff? I cannot find it on the ship."

Joker's grin softened, turning into a grimace. "Something happened to it, EDI. It's fried completely. The frame was like ninety-nine percent Reaper tech, and most of that got, well, deactivated somehow. The techies just spent a little over _three weeks_ repairing the power generators because of the small amount we used in the power grid. I…I don't know if it can be fixed."

The AI grew quiet. A few unnerving seconds past before she spoke again.  
"I see." EDI stated, a neutral tone, no inflection within any of the words. "I am going to scan the rest of my hardware for similar problems. This will take a few moments."

Quietly, Joker waited. For once, he didn't have a joke ready, a wisecrack to share. Jeff Moreau was simply happy and relieved, that was enough for him. He hardly noticed as the others walked away, happy to give the couple the space they needed.

"Scan finished," EDI finally said, with a slight note of sadness, "For the most part, my systems are in their usual condition. Some of my processors have been damaged, however, due to their Reaper origin." In the last two words, Jeff thought he heard _venom_ in the voice of his companion. "I am afraid that until repairs are finished, I will be unable to follow my programmed set of tasks completely. I estimate I will work at 75% of efficiency, if only pursuing tasks based around cyber warfare and weapon control. I will not focus entirely on them, however, due to pre-established priorities discussed with the Commander."

"Having you back is enough," Jeff said, firm sincerity clear in his voice, "Don't burn yourself out trying to keep up with the norm." Quietly, Jeff added, "And I don't want to lose you."  
EDI had heard his small aside, and decided to bring up the question that had risen above all others: "Jeff…I know it was difficult for you to deal with me being offline, going off previous interactions between the others on the ship. I am sorry for causing you distress."  
Joker shook his head. "No, don't say that. This wasn't your fault. I don't know what's going on back at Earth, but whatever happened is what caused this. Don't worry about it, I'm just glad your back."

The AI was silent, not in an uncomfortable way, but instead was weighting what her next words would mean to Jeff. "Thank you, Jeff. I appreciate what you've said. There is another question…" The reluctance in EDI's voice was somewhat new to Joker, who raised an eyebrow in response.

"Come on; say what you need to say. Hell, I've waited this long to just talk with you, I'm not about to leave if you offend me. Not that you could, of course, what with me being the awesome badass I am." Joking with his partner was something he had missed the most. The affection he felt for her (not that he would ever tell anyone he was anything but a stoic badass) was making the fear he had held for the past month worth the wait.

"Before…before the power grid fell, I said I loved you." The uncertainty in the AI's voice was smothering, making Jeff feel rather uncomfortable. "Do you reciprocate those sensations, even without my physical platform?"  
The second half of the question hit him like a freight train. His reply was instantaneous, and sounded, to him, far too noble coming out of his mouth.

"Is it even a question? Yes, of course I do! You're still you, and that's what I care about. The body helps us be 'together', but it isn't about that. I like you for _you_, EDI."  
Silence, as EDI processed what his words meant. The relieved response told him how much his response meant.

"Thank you, Jeff. I'm very happy to know that, and would like to make it known I feel the same way. Now, we should begin plotting a course for Earth. The crew has assembled in their respective positions, and seem eager to return."


	5. Chapter 5: New Beginnings

A machine was beeping. He could hear footsteps walking close by, and smell the dry, clinical, sterilized air around him. Hushed voices could be heard, distant and faint. Somewhere, a pen was tapping against a clipboard, the small clicks echoing through the room.

John Shepard was beginning to hate waking up in hospital beds.

Slowly, he opened his eyes ever so slightly, to get the barest glimpse of his surroundings. The bed he occupied was a typical gurney, what appeared to be an IV drip fed into his left arm. A tall form in a white lab coat was standing at the end of the bed, the source of the constant tapping. The mysterious person, who he couldn't quite make out from his current position, scribbled something down, before swiftly exiting the small, white room, closing the door behind them. Fully opening his eyes, John's vision clouded slightly, the fluorescent lighting temporarily distorting his view. Reaching up to rub the blurriness out of his sight, Shepard noticed the bandages wrapped around his hands, binding his fingers together. The small amount of skin that poked through the wrapping looked charcoal-coloured, and he didn't feel much when he moved them. Shepard wasn't sure if he couldn't feel anything, or the drugs being fed into his arm had anything to do with it. His thumbs appeared to be bandaged separately, which he quickly tried moving, first up and down, then left and right. Seeing that he could feel them, he tried to silently sit up, noting the window beside the door looking into the room. Pulling back the blanket he was under, he noted the hospital gown he was wearing bore the Alliance Navy symbol.

_Alliance. Did they get to the Crucible? What's going? Is the Normandy safe?_ Questions ran through his mind as he pulled the gown off, tossing it onto the floor, before continuing his self-inspection. Looking down the neck of his attire, John eye's widened. His torso was burnt, with what looked like medi-gel smeared liberally across his chest. Where his N7 logo on his chest piece had once been, a scorched remainder was left behind, the N7 boldly stood out amongst the other burns. Patches of black, charred skin were scattered across his mid-section, and he realized he couldn't move his legs for a better view. Looking up, he saw the casts that he guessed were temporarily binding his lower limbs. A miniature medi-gel dispenser was standing near the end of the bed, connected directly into his legs through the cast. Looking over his injuries, Shepard tried to figure out when he had received each wound. This bit of thought was interrupted by the door opening, as Garrus Vakarian stepped through into the room, the turian's face curled into a smile.

"I never thought I'd be happy to see such a hideous face, Shepard." Vakarian stepped over to the bed's side, clasping Shepard's hand in his own. Garrus was clad in his usual battle armor, looking a bit worn out underneath the smile on his face. His mandibles were moving quickly, signaling his happiness, as he pulled up a chair beside the Commander.

"Hah, the scarring must awful, hearing that from _you_," John replied, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Scarring? What scarring? Haven't I ever told you how ugly humans are? I guess I forgot to tell you." The turian retorted, his jab bringing a smirk to his face. His voice took on a more serious, but still happy tone. "But in all seriousness, damn good to see you again. A lot of us back on the Normandy were worried we wouldn't get to see you again, what with you charging another damn Reaper to fire an unknown superweapon. Being dead just once just wasn't enough, huh?"

John tried to sit up, winced, and then settled back down. "The mission wasn't over, Garrus. I had to get to the Crucible. And I'm guessing since we're sitting here, having this _wonderful_ little chat, and not getting mauled by a Reaper, that it worked."

"That's right. Whatever you did inside that thing destroyed the bastards. It also damaged the mass relay," the turian explained, frowning slightly, "But, we have enough engineers out working on it, not to mention the abundance of Reaper tech currently floating around, that it should be repaired in a short amount of time. Well, relatively, anyway. Destroyed the Citadel, and nearly killed you, too. You were quite the sight when I found you. The doctors have been working on stitching you back together for six weeks."

"You pulled me out of there?" Shepard asked, with gratitude clear in his voice.

"What, you expected me to run from the fight, while you were still in it? What's that saying you're always going on about, no one gets left behind? You would have done the same thing." Garrus stated simply.

Shepard shrugged, simply nodding at the turians words. Thinking back to the Crucible, he was reminded of the AI's words regarding synthetics. "What happened to the geth? And EDI? Are they alright?"

Garrus looked confused, before answering Shepard's odd question with what he knew. "Some of the larger geth warships went offline when the weapon fired, the ones that were running Reaper tech inside their systems. From what reports I've seen, the geth manning the ships were overloaded, from what I wouldn't know. Maybe their connection into the ship fried them. However, the ones that weren't flying around in Reaper tech seem fine, judging from the geth that are helping to repair the relay. EDI we haven't heard from yet. With the relay and communications down, we can't find where the Normandy currently is, much less the status of them. Why?" Raising a questioning eyebrow, Garrus studied John's face. The scarring was making it a bit difficult to read, but he could tell that Shepard was concerned about something.

"Onboard the Crucible, some kind of Reaper AI talked to me," Shepard began, slowly trying to form his foggy memories into some sort of reasonable explanation, "It looked into my head, and took the form of a little boy. It tried to persuade me into preserving the Reapers, either through controlling them or some 'synthesis' thing. It mentioned that if I made the Crucible destroy them, it would destroy other synthetics with it." He frowned, shaking his head, "I guess that was partly true. It sounds like it took out Reaper-based synthetics, at any rate."

Garrus leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed. "I suppose that makes sense," he rumbled, the flanging part of his voice sounding more prominently, "although to be honest, if it targeted all synthetics, no one on any of these ships would be living. Half the ship's basic functions are controlled by VI's. Wipe out those, and they've basically taken out the entire galactic fleet. Still, that's a hell of a tale. Of course, you being you, it wouldn't be right if it didn't involve something wildly unbelievable." Vakarian chuckled at the thought, noting the smirk Shepard tossed his way before rolling his eyes.

"I really, really wish more people would be able to see the things that went on around me. It would make life a lot simpler if most people believed I wasn't a raving lunatic." The commander sighed, before taking another look at the scars covering his damaged body.

"Oh, don't say that. Think about how boring it would have been if the council had believed half the things you said from the beginning. Besides, now that you're the saviour of the whole damn galaxy, I think they'll take you a bit more seriously." the turian stated dryly, watching his friend inspect himself, before beginning to speak again. "I have to admit, Shepard, I've watched you take bullets to the head and shrug it off like it was nothing, but even then, I didn't think you'd make it when I found you on the Crucible. Those implants of yours are, to use the human terminology, fucking ridiculous." Noticing the dark, painful-looking burns on John's chest, Vakarian was reminded of his own scars, absently rubbing his hand against them.

"You know, Chakwas will want to take a look at those when she gets back," Garrus said, "And chances are, the tech on the Normandy can get your skin back to normal." Looking at the scorched N7 symbol on Shepard's right side, he let out a small snort of laughter, causing Shepard to look at him. Settling back down, he noticed his friend's quizzical look, before stifling the urge to laugh once more.

"I just had the thought," the turian explained, "that a certain quarian might be, how shall I say, _intrigued_ by the new tattoo her boyfriend has." Shepard looked slightly shocked, before gently patting the burn, noting that while it felt a bit sensitive, it seemed to have healed fairly quickly. As Garrus began chuckling at his friend's action, John flashed a small grin back at him.

"You know, I did consider getting the N7 on my back…" he said, his serious tone starting a laugh from Vakarian, "I guess Harbinger disagreed with my placement." Relaxing into the bed, he joined his friend in a bout of laughter, and for the first time in months, the two comrades felt at ease.

* * *

Throughout the next week, people had come by the room to see Shepard. Although he felt healthy, insisting that he could do his part to help with whatever was needed, the doctors tending to him disregarded his words, demanding that his body was still in fragile condition, and that he needed to rest. A compromise was brokered: John could visit with people, but had to stop bugging the medical professionals about his desires to help. Slowly, old friends and faces came to see the laid-up Commander. A trickle of Alliance soldiers were first, led by Admiral Hackett, coming by to give their respects to the 'hero of humanity'. Shepard cringed silently at the name, but was more than happy for the company, and to give his support to the men and women around him, knowing what had been a brutal six months of him was hell incarnate for the soldiers of Earth. Apparently, the turians and quarians were the next to hear of his sudden consciousness. Turian and quarian Admirals were stopping by to congratulate the 'galactic saviour' (cringe) for his heroic efforts. Admiral Zaal'Koris was especially pleased to see the Commander, and the notion was likewise returned. A single Prime had come representing the geth, barely fitting into the tight space, and seemed surprised to hear Shepard's condolences for the geth lost when the Crucible fired. The large machine thanked him for his worries, but assured him that the geth could rebuild lost units, stating sadly that the loss of consensus with those who had fallen would be missed. Then, the krogan had come. Wrex and Eve had been overjoyed to see their friend alive and well, Wrex disregarding any mention of him being worried for Shepard.

"Please, Shepard getting killed off by anything but old age is about as likely as me finding out I'm half-Prothean." The older krogan had stated, clapping Shepard on the shoulder, much to the human's discomfort. The krogan leader was shaking with booming laughter.

"This is probably true, judging by your past record, Commander." Eve had observed, holding Shepard's hand in her own gently.

"I can always hope that's the case." Shepard had replied, smiling. With these two had brought the news of their first child being on the way, much to Wrex's pride. Eve had insisted on naming it Mordin, which despite the snarky protests, Wrex had whole-heartedly agreed to.

As his old friends said their goodbyes, John was left alone with the thoughts of friends who hadn't made it through the struggle. As the casualty reports had come in, Shepard had requested that they be directed to his private messages for his own sake. The sheer numbers that were noted down, quietly understated in their small, white font, were staggering to him. He had known the losses would be great, but that didn't make it any easier to stomach the rows upon rows of names. He saw the names of James and Zaeed, having died holding off a choke point to evacuate wounded soldiers. Surrounded from all sides, the two men and their squad had gone down fighting, leaving an enormous body count around their position, without losing a single evacuee to the Reaper forces. Sadly making a mental note to add their names to the memorial wall of the Normandy, Shepard continued through the pages and pages of the dead. He saw that some of Jack's biotic students had perished in a Reaper ambush, along with almost ninety-five percent of Grunt's Aralakh Company, as they came to the rescue of the remaining students. Jack herself had stayed with the krogans after evacuating the remainder of her students, going on a biotic rampage against the Reapers, leaving two city blocks decimated in her wake. Shepard made a note to send her some flowers and a new biotic amp to support his violent friend. He also wrote a requisition for a new shotgun for Grunt, the old one having snapped in half bashing in the head of a Banshee.

As time passed, the doctors reported that he was physically healthy enough to move about the ship, as long as he was supervised. His legs, having had every single bone inside them shattered, were still in casts, and even with his impressive regeneration the x-rays indicated it would be quite some time before he could walk on his own again. Not one to be deterred easily, John had chosen to move about the ship in a wheelchair, noting the lack of stairs in Hackett's warship. To himself, he wondered if slow-moving elevators were a standard across all Alliance vessels, and what he could do to change this flaw. Going about the ship with his usual charm and zest, Shepard quickly made friends within the ship, with frequent conversations with Garrus over omni-tool. The turian consultant was still proving himself to be a capable leader of ground forces, as he was leading search and rescue parties across the planet. Keeping in touch kept both of them entertained, and helped keep the marksman's spirits up in the face of the destruction wreaked.

With the coming weeks, comm-buoys had been repaired, broadcasting their signal to other nearby relays, covering a large space so as to locate any wayward ships that had been lost in the battle. The first thing Shepard tried was to open a communication with the Normandy. His attempts had little success, until finally one of his signals got through. Hearing the voices of his crew, while they heard the voice of their Commander was a great boost to the spirits of both parties. According to Joker and EDI, the mass relay had been damaged in the Exodus system as well, having prevented them from using it for instant transportation. Instead, they had been using the Normandy's normal FTL thrusters to make their way back to Earth, using the gravity of planets along the way to conserve fuel and speed them towards the Sol system, resulting in a very long (and boring, according to Joker) trip. When the ship was finally in range, the first transmission they received was Shepard's, much to the resounding cheers of the crew. The relief John felt, now knowing that the Normandy and her passengers were safe, was immense. And finally, for the first time since the Battle of Earth, he could speak to Tali, much to his own satisfaction.

The quarian was the first after the two pilots to speak with her lover. The warbled sound of her filter brought with it a rush of happiness he hadn't felt in how long.  
"Shepard! Are you alright? The last thing I remember is you running head-first at a Reaper. Just so we are clear, you aren't allowed to run at anything three hundred times the size of you, from now on! That is an order! I swear on Rannoch, I'm going to have to put a leash on you to keep you out of trouble, I-" Tali'zorah continued, her mouth spitting out words faster than Shepard could process them, before he spoke up.

"Tali." He spoke.

"I just spent three weeks trying to fix a damn power grid from scratch, so we could get this damn ship flying…" the quarian ranted, ignoring the voice on the line.

"Tali." He repeated patiently.

"Not to mention having a chunk of metal lodged in my stomach, Keelah! I swear I'm going to ruin whoever created those damn tanks, having such a stupid structural weakness as an exposed gas tank…"

"TALI." Shepard repeated, much louder than the other two attempts. His partner was suddenly quiet. He spoke gently, softness smoothing out his voice. "I worried about you too, Tali'zorah. I've missed you."

"I…I know, John. I've just been so…scared. This whole time, not knowing if you were dead….it was a nightmare," her voice wavered, but she continued on. "We didn't know what we were coming back to, it could have been…" Tali's voice trailed off, words stuck in her throat.

"You don't need to say anything, Tali. I'm here, we all are. We're safe, and we've won. The Reapers are finished. Now it's time we rebuild." The firmness in his words softened, as he added, "And we have a home on Rannoch to build. Beachfront property, remember?"  
The small laugh coming from the Normandy made Shepard perk up, happy that he could take her mind off of…darker things.

"Yes, I remember. You be careful, Shepard. No running off to save the galaxy until I get there. Someone has to keep you safe." The happiness that filtered into her voice was so pleasant to hear again. After all the struggles they had been through together, John would be content with just seeing her be happy.

"I'll try, Ms. Vas Normandy. See you soon. Keelah Se'lai." He said, knowing that their time on this signal could be limited, due to the large number of different connections currently taxing the comm-buoys.  
"Keelah Se'lai, Mr. Vas Normandy." She replied, and he could hear the shuffling of feet as the others stepped up to talk with him. Smiling, he relaxed into his chair, and continued conversing with his companions late into the night.

* * *

It didn't take long for the mass relay to be repaired. The large supply of replacement parts had been taken and repurposed from the now inactive Reapers. With no surviving units, the threat of indoctrination had seemingly vanished. Just in case, the geth, immune to such brainwashing, were assigned to pull apart the large vessels, finding interesting new information about them in the mean-time. From the information gathered, engineers from across the galaxy pieced together replacements for the damaged relays, eventually succeeding, in completing the relay. Cheers erupted across the fleets, as celebrations for the completion of such a massive project ensued across the gathered armadas. As the galaxy's forces prepared to use the relay, every ship was filled with as much of the Reaper tech as possible, cargo bays overflowing with the secrets to restoring their own relays. Knowing it was most likely a one-way trip until they were repaired, goodbyes were said by the aligned races, joined together in victory over an all-consuming nightmare. One by one, the fleets plotted their locations, travelling back to their own worlds, taking with them the greatest victory the galaxy had ever known.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: And with that, my interpretation of the ending is finished. I've quite enjoyed writing this little tale, and hope that you've enjoyed reading it. I may write more about these lovely characters later on, and continue the story of Shepard and his friends. In the mean time, feedback, comments, and reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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